Pale the day has started out, in watercolours
wearing see-through thoughts that please.
I can see you here, your smile, more so:
your laugh. The fire of the sun just touch and go,
transparency, the kinder side of day.
Then clouds move over and the sky is hard and blue,
a plastic lid that covers what is true,
a tender whisper can’t make it here for long,
any subtle gesture wasted on too much of it all,
on the false brightness of Summer.
Suddenly all changes again, now rain is falling hard.
Where does this leave us? Give me a clue
before the plot thickens as mist erasing you,
before the paleness of the morning is forgotten,
when all was clear to me and real.